Bastard In A Sut (Book Three) (Bastard In A Suit 3) Read online

  My breathing quickens.

  He bites my lip and then kisses my throat, trails down to the base of my neck. “Do you know how hot you make me?”

  Speechless, I shake my head.

  He stares at me for what seems an eternity, his eyes brimming with raw need. Adrenaline courses through my blood. Duke lets go of my wrists and yanks my blouse up over my head. He tugs on my skirt and spins me around. My palms slap against the wall.

  I hear the zip of his fly, a grunt as his pants come down. His thick cock rubs against my bare ass. “I’ve had a really bad day, Hailey.”

  My fingernails curl against the wall as he grabs my hips and crashes against me. I lift on my toes and bend forward, expecting him to thrust inside me. His fingers reach around to my pussy instead. He rubs the tip of my clit and then slides his thumb along my slit. “You’re already so fucking wet.”

  Duke spins me around and grabs behind my knees. In one swift motion he lifts me to his waist and onto his cock. He slides inside and pins me against the wall. I wrap my arms around his neck, steadying as he pummels me with his dick in quick thrusts.

  Everything happens so fast, I’m reeling. I’ve never done anything like this and a delicious thrill makes my body hum.

  Still inside me, Duke carries me to the bank of sinks and sets me on the counter. He leans me back and begins thrusting again, watching my pussy as he fucks me. His tongue slides across his lip. He glances at my face, then back at his cock sliding in and out with frantic rhythm, then back to my face.

  “I had every urge to bend you over that ice table and trail an ice cube over your hot pussy,” Duke says.

  The way he stares at us fucking, coupled with the raw sexuality in his voice makes me even more wet. I can feel my juices dripping down my inner thighs and onto the counter. Duke palms one of my breasts and begins massaging. My nipples are like small pebbles. I fantasize about Duke trailing an ice cube across them and my pussy clenches.

  God, I can’t get enough. The feel of his cock thrusting inside me. The whisper of my name on his lips. I lean on my elbows and tilt my head back while Duke pounds me with his cock.

  “Say my name,” he demands.

  “Duke…”

  “Louder.” He thrusts deep. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Fuck me,” I say, breathless and panting. He quickens the pace, pounding so hard and fast I’m sure there will be bruises. “Like that, Duke. Fuck me just like that.”

  He grabs both my knees and spreads my legs wide.

  My pussy swells and I feel the orgasm start to build. He thrusts deeper. Faster. Plunging into me as he stares at our bodies moving together.

  “Come with me,” he says.

  The invitation is all I need. His voice unlocks my release, and I feel his cock spasm inside me just as my own orgasm peaks. It crashes down as ribbons of pleasure run along my spine and curl my toes.

  Chapter 5

  By the time we leave the Aviary, my body is limp and numb, my mind light with a subtle alcohol buzz. I clumsily climb in the back of Duke’s limousine and he settles in beside me. Neither of us says anything until we get out of the car and ride the elevator up to Duke’s penthouse suite.

  He doesn’t ask if I want to stay over, and I don’t protest his assumption.

  Not even as he guides me to the bedroom where he tells me to slowly strip off my clothes. I comply, trembling as he watches my every move.

  “You shouldn’t have been snooping on my computer, Hailey,” he says, taking a seat in the chair to stare at my nakedness. “I haven’t forgotten what a bad girl you’ve been.”

  I lick my lips, preparing for my punishment. My eyes flit toward the flogger, still resting on his dresser, and the blindfold next to it, perfectly in place. He follows my gaze and chuckles. “You enjoy being punished, don’t you?”

  My bottom lip trembles. “Yes.”

  He grabs my wrist and pulls me down to my knees, gently bending me over his knee. His hand rubs in circles over my bare ass, and then—

  Thwack.

  His palm connects with my skin.

  I bite hard down on my lip. “Again,” I whisper, so soft I’m not even sure he’s heard me.

  “I think you like being naughty,” he says, and he spanks me again, this time with more force. He leaves his hand there, fingers dangling between my thighs, hovering so close to my pussy that my clit throbs.

  Impossibly, I want him again.

  “Are you my naughty girl, Hailey?”

  He spanks me again before I can answer, and my entire body responds to his touch. His cock twitches against my abdomen. Oh yes, I am absolutely his naughty girl. I slide my body off him and kneel on the floor at his feet. My hand goes to his crotch. “May I?”

  He nods.

  Carefully, I unzip his pants and reach inside to pull out his cock. It feels heavy, hard, in my palm. My thumb slides over the head and he sucks in a gasp. I trace my fingertip along the shaft, watching as his dick grows harder, longer beneath my touch.

  Slowly, I slide my hand up over the head of his penis and tighten my grip. His muscles tense. I loosen my fingers and run my hand down his cock while the other tightens around his balls. A low moan vibrates from his throat.

  I allow my fingernails to scrape lightly across his scrotum. His stomach tenses and he gasps.

  “Christ, Hailey.”

  The awe in his tone fills me with pride and a shiver trips along my spine. Every cell in my body screams for his touch. I focus my attention on Duke, make this all about him.

  I use my teeth to pull his shirt up on his stomach and then kiss his abdomen, running my tongue along the sharp V of muscles that trail down to his pelvis. My mouth moves upward, pushing his shirt up over his chest. My teeth find a nipple. I clamp down, bite hard.

  Duke’s voice goes all raspy. “Fuck. Me.”

  I paw at his chest and lick behind his ear, tugging at the lobe with my teeth. “Do you know how long I have wanted to taste you?”

  His moan vibrates through his chest.

  I slither down until I’m back on my knees. He leans back in the chair, arching his cock toward me. My tongue slides over my lips as I hungrily take the sight of him in. I grab his balls with one hand, and lean close to lick the tip of his dick, working my tongue around the head and under the ridge.

  His moan of appreciation provides all the encouragement I need.

  I close my lips over the shaft and gently suck as I glide up and down with my mouth. My hand moves from his scrotum to the base of his cock, and I squeeze, release, squeeze in tandem with the up and down of my lips.

  Duke grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls. “Yeah, baby, there. Right there.”

  The rhythm of my sucking and stroking picks up speed. I flick my tongue across the head of his cock, suck, flick. His breathing accelerates. He pulls harder on my hair. “Fuck, Hailey…don’t….fucking…stop.”

  I suck harder, taking him deeper into my mouth, preparing for his orgasm. His cock bulges and his balls are tight. I can feel him at the back of my throat. His muscles tense. He blows out a sharp breath just as a primal scream erupts from his throat. He thrusts, spasms, and my mouth fills with his hot, salty liquid.

  “Christ, Hailey,” he says, panting.

  There’s barely enough time for me to wipe my lips before he stands, lifting me off the floor. He carries me to the bed and lays me on the mattress. I’m hot, ready, aching for his touch. I close my eyes, savoring the heat from his breath. He lowers his mouth between my thighs. I’m vibrating with need.

  His tongue darts into my cleft and I gasp.

  “I can’t get enough of your sweet pussy,” he says, voice thick and raw. He nips at the flesh on my inner thighs, a small bite for each side, and then slides his tongue along my lips. “Does this feel good, baby?”

  “Yes,” I practically pant. Everything Duke does makes my body quake. No one has ever given me this…this level of satisfaction. I’m sure he’s ruined me for all other men.

&nbs
p; He works his lips over my clit, sucking and flicking with steady momentum. It’s both shocking and scary how well he knows my body. I’m like liquid under his touch.

  “Mmmm, you taste so good.”

  The words vibrate against my clit.

  He picks up pace.

  I arch my back. “Yes,” I say, my voice breathy.

  He sucks harder.

  “Yes,” I say louder. “God, yes.”

  Duke holds onto my thighs and squeezes. My orgasm pulses closer. He swipes his tongue across my swollen clit and I snap. “Holy shit,” I gasp.

  My release shudders hard and fast. I writhe under his mouth, riding out the pleasure until at last the pulsing stops and everything goes hazy. I close my eyes, smile, and whisper his name.

  Chapter 6

  A guttural scream startles me awake. I blink, eyes adjusting to the darkness, heart pounding up in my throat. In the seconds it takes for me to find my bearings, another cry cuts through the night and I realize it’s Duke.

  I paw at the tangle of sheets, and try to shake him awake. His skin is cool and slick with sweat. I tear off the blankets but they’re wrapped too tight around his arms. He thrashes against the mattress, yanking me along with him as he tries to break free.

  “I won’t tell you,” he shouts.

  The force of his voice pings off the walls, fraught with pain, even in sleep. His fist comes up and I duck to avoid contact. “Duke,” I say, loudly, and then repeat it again with more authority. “Duke! Wake up!”

  It’s like he’s trapped, caged, unable to free himself from the vice-grip of this nightmare. There is more grunting, a series of unintelligible sentences. I know without question he’s back in Afghanistan, reliving the torture he must have endured.

  Pangs of sympathy spasm across my chest.

  I have never felt so hopeless, helpless. Why can’t I get him to wake up?

  “Duke!” I shake him hard, gripping his shoulders with as much force as I can muster. He shrugs me off and rolls onto his side, curling into the fetal position. His legs swing back and forth as if he’s trying to run, but with each stride, the sheets tangle more around his ankles. They’re too tight for me to unwrap.

  “No!” he shouts, and I shrivel under the echo of the command. He says it again and again, now reaching toward his back. I scramble to the edge of the mattress and flick on the lamp. I need to find a way to pull him out of the darkness.

  “Duke, please…” I pound on his shoulder with my fist, desperate to shock him awake. “Wake up. It’s me…it’s…”

  His body stills and he slowly opens his eyes. He stares at me for a long minute, searching my face for answers. I don’t have any to give. His body trembles, sweat covers his forehead. He clutches a long scar on his back as if it’s an open wound. The pain that makes his eyes shine under the dim light cripples me.

  “It was just a dream,” I say, softly.

  I run my hand over his arm. He doesn’t flinch, but I can tell he’s not quite with it, somehow still reliving the experience. Disoriented and confused.

  “Can I get you water? A drink? Anything?”

  He sits upright and shakes his head. Runs his hand over his face, as if to reset himself.

  I thread my fingers through his. “Does this happen often?”

  “Not always.” His thumb rubs across mine. “I can’t predict what triggers it. Sometimes…”

  The lump in my throat swells. “I didn’t know how to wake you…”

  He unhooks our hands and curls me up against his chest. His heartbeat has slowed, but his skin is cool and clammy. “There is nothing more you could have done.” He tilts his head toward mine.

  “Do they always last that long?”

  Duke’s fingers wind around a strand of my hair. “I don’t know. No one has ever been here to witness them before.”

  The significance of the words presses down on my chest, and through to my heart.

  “Just you, Hailey,” he says.

  Our heads turn in unison, and his lips gently brush against mine. The kiss is tender, sweet. He reaches behind my head and pulls me close until our foreheads touch. Electricity hums between us.

  “Hailey,” he whispers, drowsily, on the cusp of sleep. Every hair on my body stands at attention. He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m really glad you were here.”

  Chapter 7

  I wake to an empty bed and the sound of rushing water in the bathroom. A lazy smile sweeps across my face. I stretch out, unwrapping myself from the tangle of sheets. My eyes close, open, close. I must have dozed off, because when I open them for real, Duke is already dressed, attaching cuff links to his sleeves.

  “Good morning,” I say, admiring the way he fills out a suit. He fiddles with his tie and I sit upright. “Want a little help with that?”

  I try to sound sexy, confident, but Duke sloughs me off with barely a glance.

  “We’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes,” he says. “I had someone deliver an appropriate work outfit. I trust you don’t want to go to the office in the same clothes again.”

  I blink. “Excuse me?”

  Duke yanks on his tie, pulling the knot tight. He’s dressed in charcoal today, with a pale gray shirt that almost looks silver, and a teal tie. “Do you need more time to get ready?” he says without a trace of emotion.

  What I need is a mood stone. After his nightmare, Duke had curled into me until we’d both fallen asleep, our naked bodies providing comfort and warmth. I wasn’t sizing up wedding dresses and naming our children yet, but I assumed, perhaps with a little too much haste, that the tides had turned for us.

  I pull the covers up over my chest. “I hadn’t planned on going into the office.” Even though the neighbor is looking after my cat, Onyx isn’t the only thing about home I miss—my make-up, my hair products, fresh underwear, a new bra. And much as I enjoy Duke’s expensive java, my “I’d Kill For A Cup of Coffee” mug is just the right size and weight.

  Duke sighs. “Are we really going to do this again?”

  “Do what?” I peel off the covers and swing my feet around so they touch the floor. Cool air breathes across my skin. I stretch, extending my torso to work out the morning kinks—but in reality, I’m hoping the sight of my naked body, nipples hard, will nudge him out of whatever’s put him in a bad mood. “There is literally nothing for me to do there,” I remind him.

  With the MicroTracker bagged as evidence, and Forrest taking an undetermined amount of time off, my skills will remain dormant. I refuse to be one of the many people that are paid to be at Duke’s beck and call. No way. I’ll go back to my apartment, do laundry, play with my cat, and try to figure out my next move.

  Duke’s expression softens. “There are a number of things I could use your help with,” he says. “Please, I’d like you to join me.”

  It’s the “please” that does it. Well, that and the anticipation of seeing what he bought for me to wear. My mind goes to dirty places, and I snicker at the thought of me prancing around the office in a French Maid costume. When I realize I’ve been busted laughing, I sober up. “Give me twenty minutes?”

  “Very well. There are towels in the bathroom, unless you’d prefer one of the other showers.”

  I can almost guarantee they don’t smell like Duke, and even in this awkward moment, I’m drawn to his scent, his overwhelming presence. He doesn’t just command the space, he commands my every thought. I’ve yet to figure out how dangerous that may be for my health.

  The pencil skirt Duke ordered fits me like a glove, accenting the soft curve of my hips, and cinching around my narrow waste. It’s black, classy, and hangs just below the knees. Considerably more conservative than I thought. Inside the garment bag, I also find a pretty burgundy blouse with lace cuffs and a steep plunging neckline, and a black lace bra, C cup. No underwear.

  I scrounge around in my purse until I find my compact and apply a thin layer of powder. I use the light pink gloss to rouge my cheeks before applying it to my lips. I
study myself in the mirror. This will have to do.

  We don’t take the Lamborghini to the office, just the car with his regular driver. There is no singing, no holding hands. In fact, Duke spends most of the ride on his phone, answering the chauffeur’s questions with curt responses and mine with even less enthusiasm. I fiddle with my purse strap. Play with the buttons on my blouse.

  By the time we get to Kingston Industries I’m bordering on tears. Why is he being so cold?

  We stroll through the front lobby together, but we might as well be strangers. There is silence as I scan my access card, a curt smile from the receptionist, and then more non-talking as Duke and I ride the elevator up to the penthouse.

  “Is something bothering you?” I say.

  Duke glances up from his phone. “Why do you ask?”

  I clear my throat. “You’re just really…quiet.”

  “Focused,” he says. “I have a busy day ahead of me.”

  Right. I get it. He’s a businessman, and I’m merely an employee. At the office, I accept that—maybe even demand it—but he showed me not one ounce of affection this morning, and for some reason, it stings much more than it should.

  “Coffee,” he says, once seated at his desk.

  I stand for a second, confused until I realize he expects me to fetch him a cup. Okay, then. I set my bag down at my desk, smooth out my skirt, and walk to the coffee station to pour us each a mug. I add two sugars to mine, a splash of cream to his, and take them back to his desk, then take a seat in the leather chair across from him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, an edge in his voice now.

  “Waiting,” I say.

  He sips his coffee and scowls. “Too much cream. Make me another.”

  I make a face of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He isn’t. I yank his cup off the desk, and a drop of coffee spills over the edge. He stares at it. I ignore the expression of disproval, grab a new mug from the coffee station and pour a fresh cup. I also snag a piece of paper towel. Wordless, fuming, I put the coffee on his desk and wipe up what spilled.